


One-Shot Collection: Marvel Movie-verse

by StuntMuppet



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Kid Pietro Maximoff, Kid Wanda Maximoff, Maximoff Twin Feels, Music, One Shot Collection, Post-Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4657818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuntMuppet/pseuds/StuntMuppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various one-shots, meme responses, comment fics, and other fics too short to get their own posts. This is the Marvel Cinematic Universe one-shot post. Prompts and Characters will be in the chapter titles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Peter Quill, Gamora, Prompt: Awesome Mix Part I

One of Gamora’s cybernetic enhancements is a translator, so she can understand any speech she hears and be understood wherever she goes. Peter’s headphones, however, are so old and the sound so comparatively lo-fi that her translator can’t quite pick them up. Melody comes through, but flattened; the phonemes of language muddle in and can’t be plucked out to see what they represent. 

The words are clearer and easier to translate when played through the speakers in the Milano, but there’s still one phrase, on Track 2, that eludes her.

“What does ‘ooga chaka’ represent?”

He has no answer for her.


	2. Wanda Maximoff, Prompt: Library Meme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off a Library Prompt meme on my tumblr, where people sent me page numbers and I grabbed the closest book and had to use a line from that page in a ficlet. 
> 
> [gravityeyelids](gravityeyelids.tumblr.com) prompted me with 124. The line: “He lived in a dream whose illlusory fabric kept tearing.” - _Every Force Evolves a Form_ by Guy Davenport.
> 
> Doesn't actually use the line because I cheated.

When the bomb caved in their roof that day Pietro had tried to get them out.

Even back then he had been fast - had been ever since he could walk - but his gift like hers was young and untested. He’d used it mostly to show off to other boys up to then. What else did he have to run from?

So he’d wrapped his own small fingers around mama’s and papa’s thumbs, swung around to scoop Wanda up between them, and against all their weight he’d stumbled to run. He dragged them away from the fire behind them but he couldn’t outrun the shockwave, or the rubble that came down around their heads.

She woke up still underneath it, spared by the crossbeams and brick. Maybe she could have lifted them away. She wasn’t sure; like Pietro she hadn’t pushed her limits back then, and if she moved one stone the rest might have fallen around them, But the truth was at the time she didn’t even think of it, because she could still reach out for her mother and father’s hands - she couldn’t see their faces but she could feel their pain, knew that it was too great.

And if this was how it ended for them then at least she could take away their pain - she’d done it before, when mama’s joints ached, and even if this pain was so much worse it was still a feeling and feelings were all in your head.

She held onto them until the hurt stopped flowing in.

After that it was canvas tents and dry meals dropped by relief airplanes and chasing down her brother at night. He fled further every day, running until exhaustion claimed him. She’d sit by him when she found him until he woke again. It was the only time he slept.

So she’d summoned up every memory she had of their parents, every wrinkle in their old shoes and crease around the corners of their mouths. In Pietro’s sleeping mind, she re-created them. When he woke he was almost smiling.

(Another time she walked out to find him and two men were creeping his way with drawn machine guns, and she’d taken all the fear and all the tiredness and all the anger and bourne down on them and cracked their minds like ice across a pond. It was the first time she’d known what she could do.)

When she brought her parents back for Pietro she could talk to them again, hug them again and tell them goodbye. From the pieces of their voices she built new conversations, new songs and stories - more than memories, Like they were still alive.

But then Pietro stopped smiling when he woke.

He pushed her hands away at last before dawn one morning. Said _They’re dead, Wanda. Stop lying._ Hauled himself back up and walked back home, the same pace anyone else would.


End file.
